


By Any Means Necessary

by sugardabbler



Category: Mumintroll | Moomins Series - Tove Jansson, 楽しいムーミン一家 | Moomin (Anime)
Genre: Character Death, Mild Gore, justice will be served... with a side of potatoes and gravy, superfluous descriptions of cake, wholesome cannibalism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-24
Updated: 2018-09-24
Packaged: 2019-07-16 10:55:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,184
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16084688
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sugardabbler/pseuds/sugardabbler
Summary: The Moomins host a fabulous party, to serve as a grim reminder for anyone who thinks of breaking the tranquility of their beloved valley.Everyone is invited!





	By Any Means Necessary

**Author's Note:**

  * For [HellenARTworkS](https://archiveofourown.org/users/HellenARTworkS/gifts).



> For you, thank you for the consultation on Lucy's characterization, and for putting up with my gory jokes and nonsense.

Early one day Moominmamma awoke just as the sun began to rise over the quiet valley and, like always, headed downstairs to make breakfast. She cooked fluffy pancakes, put on the coffee, and set the table as she did every morning, but today was anything but ordinary. This was the day she would host a feast for her adopted daughter Lucy.

As the scent of fresh coffee wafted through the house, one by one it's residents began to congregate in the dining room and the only topic on anyone's mind was Lucy's party. The Moomin family's summer celebrations were legendary. Though it would take effort on everybody's part to make it a truly unforgettable night, the preparations were always half the experience. No one wanted to be left out.

It wasn't long before Little My and her elder sister arrived toting homemade desserts and bottles of Chardonnay, the latter being a gift from the Mymble, who had insisted it would pair well with roasted pig. Mrs. Fillyjonk carried in a basket of apples hand-picked from her own tree, and Too-Ticky pledged to entertain everyone with her barrel-organ. Mr. Hemulen dropped in to contribute the only way he knew how, with plenty of flowers for decorations. Even Snufkin shuffled out of his tent, his hat and pockets stuffed full of mushrooms and berries picked on some secret adventure. Moominmamma gratefully accepted each of the gifts and promised the mushrooms would make an excellent gravy.

Now the children and Moominpappa were assigned various chores - hauling spare chairs from the attic, unpacking paper lanterns, or gathering fresh vegetables from the garden. Only Lucy joined Moominmamma in the kitchen. As the feast was to be made in her honor, she had been given the sole responsibility to assist with the main course, something both parents agreed could be cathartic for her.

They were so desperate to remind Lucy that the valley was still a peaceful and safe home for her, and to show the measures they were willing to take in order to preserve that security.

\---

“Have you already learned how to cook a roast, dear?"

Lucy shook her head, the excitement everyone else felt had yet to kick in.

"Well, I'd be delighted to teach you. You may even discover cooking to be therapeutic. I find it's the easiest way to clear my mind," Moominmamma said eagerly.

"I’ve already gutted it for you.” She gestured to their soon-to-be dinner, now helplessly splayed out (on Moominmamma’s largest platter) as if waiting for the loving touch of a chef’s paw to spring it to life.

“First, I’ll show you how to make a glaze,” Mamma continued, already gathering together the necessary tools and ingredients.

"Chop the garlic like this." She swiftly minced a clove to demonstrate. "Then mix up the honey and seasonings, and when you're finished use the brush to spread it over the entire roast. Be generous with it!" she instructed.

"Yes, Mamma." Lucy picked up the knife and got to work. It was a bit clumsy in her paws, but Moominmamma still praised her efforts even though she couldn't chop as finely. She added the minced garlic to a bowl along with brown sugar, salt, oil, mustard, then poured in the honey and stirred diligently until it was smooth and well mixed.

"Great work, dear! I'll, er... leave you both alone now." Moominmamma padded away to the other side of the kitchen where the Fillyjonk's apples were waiting to be mashed into sauce. "Do let me know if you need help. And leave the ropes on, they will help keep the juices in," she added.

Lucy had never been left alone with a corpse before. Though it had been right next to her as she mixed glaze, she had gone out of her way to avoid looking at it. She rolled up her pink sleeves and took a deep breath. The sooner she started the job, the sooner this hellish nightmare would be over. With both paws behind her back, Lucy leaned in to contemplate the cadaver.

It's jaw was frozen as if in a silent scream, and the nicked flesh showed traces of bruising from what Lucy assumed to be some earlier tenderizing. She almost felt sorry for the poor stiff. Looking into it's glassy eyes, it was easy to picture what this animal's last living moments were like - desperate, terrified, frantic, just as helpless as she had once been.

And utterly alone as the butcher dealt the final blow, without a trace of pity.

"I suppose that's where we are different, you and I," Lucy thought. She twisted her face in a mocking imitation of the body's gruesome mug, giggling as she lifted the brush and began messily smearing her delicious honey glaze across it's skin. Mamma was right, cooking  _was_ a soothing activity.

When finished, she called for Moominmamma who again clasped her paws in admiration of Lucy's work. "It looks great, dear. I do believe the oven is now hot enough to begin roasting."

"This one will take at least eight hours to finish cooking," Moominmamma said through gritted teeth, as she lifted the platter with all her might and slipped it into the oven. "Phew!"

"What will we do until then?" Lucy asked.

"You come back in a few hours, dear, and we will see how well the roast is coming along. But for now, go have fun with the children!" Moominmamma made motions as if to shoo Lucy, who nodded and smiled she ran off to see what Moomintroll and Snorkmaiden were up to.

Moominmamma turned her attention back to the sauce. When the apples were finally simmering on the stove, she began to clean and slice the mushrooms. Then she kneaded dough, peeled potatoes, and squashed squash. For a while she worked in silence, until a sharp knock at the kitchen door snapped her from the trance.

“Oh, who could that be.” Moominmamma wiped her paws on her stained apron and opened the door, where she was met with the stony, furrowed face of the police inspector.

“Mrs. Moomin,” he began, raising a brow. “Have you by any chance seen the Joxter recently?”

Moominmamma glanced at the distinctive hat and coat that laid in the corner. She must’ve carelessly tossed the clothing after dressing the carcass, and forgotten to properly hide them away. Gripping on to her apron, she silently cursed herself for being so absent-minded.

_My knife, where did I put my knife._

But before Moominmamma could even open her mouth, his expression shifted from grim to gleeful as he broke out into wild laughter. “The Mymble’s daughter told me what happened. However,” the Inspector wiped his eyes dry and took a notepad from his pocket. “For the sake of my records, I need to know the cause of death.”

Bewildered, but very relieved, Moominmamma carefully considered the statement. “It looked like he was hit very hard on the head,” she answered.

“Uh-huh… blunt force trauma… Great.” The Inspector finished scribbling and curiously poked his snout through the doorway, no doubt drawn in by the unique, yet no less inviting aroma that emanated from the kitchen. “If I may ask, where is he now?”

“Why, he’s in the oven!” Moominmamma exclaimed, now clutching her chest in relief. “Are you coming to the party?”

\---

"He's done!" Moomintroll announced with the enthusiasm of a trumpeting elephant.

Thirteen hungry trolls leaned in with anticipation. They sat crammed around the dining table, which was equally stuffed with bouquets of roses and lilies and a gorgeous array of side dishes. But nobody had come just for the mashed potatoes!

They ooh-ed and ahh-ed as the proud Moominparents, along with Lucy, hauled in the main course. The slain Joxter's body had been cooked to perfection. Now he was garnished with a crown weaved from thyme and rosemary, and laid of a bed of fragrant fennel fronds. His crackled skin dripped with juices, and the aroma was so sinfully tempting one could almost leap up and tear into him with bare claws. As a final ironic, or perhaps cruel touch, an apple had been crammed into his gaping mouth.

"Would you do us the honour, dear?" Moominmamma asked.

With knives in hand (and Pappa's paws to guide her as needed), Lucy tore into the late Joxter's crisp flesh and cut herself a lean fillet. She next served choice cuts to a few special visitors: court inventor Frederickson, the Muddler and his wife Fuzzy, even _the_ Mymble herself, all long time friends of both Moominpappa and the not-so-dearly departed.

Moominpappa took over the carving from there. The children eagerly held out their plates and hollered for which bits they wanted most, the older guests patiently licked their chops and chattered amongst themselves, and Moominmamma beamed as her husband chuckled and did his best to satisfy the noisy horde. After much fanfare, everybody was finally served and they all settled in to engorge on divine food and delightful conversation.

"This tomato soup is to die for," Fuzzy said. The Muddler nodded in agreement, dabbing a red mustache off his lip.

"Are you sure this oregano hasn't expired?" Hemulen asked.

"Some warm butter may give your garlic bread more life," Frederickson suggested.

"My brussel sprouts have gone cold..." the Snork complained.

"Have you seen Gaffsie's new hat? Scarlet is really not her colour," Fillyjonk gossiped.

"Moominmamma, I would _kill_ for your gravy recipe!" said the Mymble.

"What's with the long face, Snufkin!"

Little My's shrill voice rose above the rest of the conversation. She had ambitiously taken Joxter's entire right forearm for herself. And now she pointed the nibbled appendage towards her brother, who stared at his plate with a solemn expression. "Aren't you enjoying yourself like the rest of us?"

"I am. I was just thinking about how my father was finally good for something," he stated, prompting a laugh from friends who knew the deceased best. "These ribs are great, by the way. They really melt in your mouth."

"Thank Lucy, not me! She cooked it all on her own!" Moominmamma boasted.

Lucy briefly locked eyes with Snufkin and blushed. "Oh... but it wouldn't have been as good without the mushrooms you brought," she said shyly. "Or the apples, or-"

"It was so kind of you all to come," Lucy whimpered, barely choking back cries of joy.

Sensing a good opportunity, Moominpappa cleared his throat and stood atop his chair. "I'd like to propose a toast," he said, to which everyone raised their glasses in unison. "First to thank each of you, coming together for Lucy's sake."

He then motioned towards Moomintroll, who brought in a final special present on behalf of himself and the other children. It was a small cake, topped with pink frosting, delicate and life-like spun-sugar flowers, sprinkles in a dizzying spectrum of colours, crumbled cookies (both gingersnap and chocolate chip), a tiny glove buried under a mound of vanilla icing, and a dusting of powdered cocoa. Custardy innards were beginning to leak and drip down the edge of the plate. The cake was also decorated with a single lit candle, as only one could fit among the stomach-ache inducing variety of toppings, and someone had attempted to write Lucy's name in a gooey splattering of strawberry syrup. Clearly the kids had raided the local confectionery shop.

"And of course, for Lucy. I know it isn't your birthday, dear, but I hope today can signify a fresh start. A new and happier life for you!"

"To Lucy!" The dining room erupted with cheers as everyone clinked glasses and downed their Chardonnay.

"Thank you, Pappa. And everyone." Lucy wiped her eyes, then blew out the candle as they cheered a second time.

"Did you make a wish?" Moomintroll immediately inquired, eyes lit up with wonder.

"Maybe she asked for a bag of gold," said Sniff. "And a necklace made of opals and sapphires!"

"Peace on Earth, perhaps?" joked Snufkin.

"No, a BATTLE AXE would be much more practical," Little My said with a snort.

"Don't ask her! If you share it, Lucy, it won't come true!" Snorkmaiden cried, though she secretly wanted to hear it more than anyone else.

Laughing, they dug into their own desserts. And once everybody had their fill of the luscious cakes and pies, they filed out through the veranda where Too-Ticky and Snufkin were ready to start their little concert. But first they gathered to watch Moominpappa light one of his famous bonfires.

He carefully stacked the kindling, laid out the Joxter's clothing and pipe, then (after only a single moment's hesitation) tossed in the gasoline-soaked pages of his memoirs and lit a match.

The fire roared long into the night. With drinks in hand and songs in their hearts, they danced until the last traces of Joxter were nothing more than distant memories, dying embers, and satisfied bellies.

Lucy had plenty of time to ponder her wish as she danced arm in arm with Moomins and Mymbles, under a sky full of stars that seemed to smile upon her - but she knew it had already come true.


End file.
